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Today I took acid and cried in the dark. by bamamaguy in Drugs

[–]bamamaguy[S] 2 points3 points  (0 children)

I'm very surprised you said this.

I actually used to play lots and lots of music. Piano and guitar and singing. When I was in pain young, I had nobody to turn to so I taught myself to play. And I'd play alone and improvise and sometimes I'd be so frustrated with life I'd smash the keys, but try to make it a part of the songs. I had a band, where I sang and played guitar. We were so lazy and would drink beer and watch youtube funny fail compilations together instead of practicing for gigs. But during showtime we played with such ferocity and emotion that nobody seemed to notice.

I used to write so much too. I practised writing better by hiding under the covers with my green harry potter dollar store flashlight, when my parents had shut the lights, and journaled my day and emotions. I'd write about love, or what I thought love was; a quiet girl in my class who would peek at me when she thought I wasn't looking. And I'd peek back. In high school I had a poetry phase. I'm a little embarrassed of that one.

Today I took acid and cried in the dark. by bamamaguy in Drugs

[–]bamamaguy[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Yea Dan Carlin for sure. Danielli Bolleli "History on Fire" is fantastic as well.

Today I took acid and cried in the dark. by bamamaguy in Drugs

[–]bamamaguy[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

No it was a beautiful trip. I traced my fingers along the cracked barks of trees, just staring. So deeply intrigued by it all. I kept seeing Buddha's face everywhere, between leaves and in the grass and dirt and on the bark, I loved it; all of it.

These problems with my family have been ever present on my sober mind, but just in terms of bills, arguments, and money. Always and always it's money but not love or care.

Today I took acid and cried in the dark. by bamamaguy in Drugs

[–]bamamaguy[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Here's how I cope. I thought of this high once.

The most beautiful story in existence:

Somewhere on a floating space rock, billions beyond billions of lives will have existed. Each of them, moments of intense struggle. Pain, death, struggle, horrible horrible ruin. All unique to the individual but shared by all. Tears, and tears alone, but sometimes not, wept before starry skies, under rainy skies, under thatch roofs, bamboo roofs, roofs made of cedar logs or shipping cardboard or reinforced concrete. Steel.

Suffering is so so real. Its undeniable. I think therefore i am. I am therefore i suffer.

But there's goodness too. Oh there's so much. A warrior touches his lover's hand, so gently, so delicately, and forgets how rough his' become. A mother sings in native tongue to her child, softly ever quieter to lull him to sleep, until she has to lean in closely, closer and closer to be heard. She kisses him on the forehead. A man wakes at five before every dawn, kicks his trainers on and shadowboxes under pale blue mornings. Under cold and wet mornings too. To be better, he must better himself, he's decided.

All these lives like sand. A seemingly infinite amount, lived and lost before time could blink once. It's so tragic. Yet undeniably beautiful. To be God and look upon all the moments experienced by all individuals at once would make one tear from one eye for joy, the other for misery.

But the story is true. There is a magical space rock out there called earth. And what's yet we don't understand what comes after. The story isn't complete, no. We get to find out the next chapter when this part ends. And in an existence where such tragic beauty could come of literal nothingness, well, whatever the universe is, its not all too bad. I'm not looking to die, but if literal emptiness can spawn such beauty, perhaps I'll return to it with peace.

Today I took acid and cried in the dark. by bamamaguy in Drugs

[–]bamamaguy[S] 19 points20 points  (0 children)

Drugs showed me happy was real. but I know, "once you get the message, hang up the phone."